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digging ditches

Posted on January 16, 2017 by deconstructingdoctor

fullsizeoutput_1fa9 I inhaled deeply and out came the contents of the day in one long breath. The computers, the patients, the staff, the new EMR system. All of the problems. No solutions. So much frustration. I just want to quit!

I collapsed on the bed in a shape that one would be inclined to draw a chalk line around, outlining my final resting place because I would likely never get up from here again.

I lifted my head up slightly to look in my husband’s direction. As if to say, well, isn’t my life shit? Don’t you feel sorry for me? Was he even listening?

He was. His face with the slightest bit of a smile. “At least you’re not digging ditches.”

I laid my head back down. The verbal equivalent of a slap upside the head.

Believe it or not, I’ve dug ditches before. My dad worked construction all of his life and being his only child, I went along during summers and weekends to help. It is a true miracle that I am alive to tell about it. Let’s just say my dad wasn’t very observant of his little child on a busy construction site. How many hammers fell from ladders near my head? How many nail guns, saws, and various other equipment backfired, kickbacked, or just plain did weird shit that could lead to serious bodily harm? How many times had I dodged a 2 by 4 swinging toward my head?

I remember sinking into the couch after a long day. Dirty. Smelly. Sore. Deep down bone tired. Those were long hard days. The pay was bad. The conditions were worse. It was Florida. It was summer. And it was hot.

My dad did that for his entire life (he has since retired).

This was me dressing up like my dad for fun, he didn’t make me do child labor, I swear.

I work in air conditioning. During normal business hours. And get a decent check. I rarely break a sweat. I eat meals at a table and my hands are clean. I don’t have to use a Port A Potty for bathroom breaks. I have an amazing and loyal staff that help me. I have amazing and loyal patients that need us. They are grateful. They are appreciative. They know that we struggle with this new computer system and they show us patience and grace. It’s not so bad, I guess.

At least I’m not digging ditches. But dammit I could and I would, if I needed to.

Posted in My Stories | Tagged blog, blogger, blogging, construction, Dad, digging ditches, Doctor, EMR, hard work, quit, writer, writing | 7 Comments

Discomfort Zone

Posted on January 10, 2017 by deconstructingdoctor

The following blogpost first appeared on my friend Bonnie’s blog called edsazebra. Bonnie is such an amazing spirit, filled with joy and encouragement for others. She writes about her journey with an incredibly rare disorder called Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome.

I’m doing a little cleaning for the new year, at home, at work, and on my blog. I have a collection of half-finished blog pieces, catchy titles with no text, and a few posts that appeared on other blogs. Like this one.

fullsizeoutput_1ed1 Friendships have always been a little awkward for me. I think it stems from being an only child. I watch my two children, 2 years apart, the best of friends, playing together, laughing at each other’s jokes, being kind to each other, fighting like wildebeests together. And I get it now: I didn’t have that. I hung out with my parents. And their friends. Adults as friends have a subversive quality. A superficial kindness with a backstabbing bite. Adults smile in each other’s faces and tear each other up later. It made me guarded. Because people can really suck.

Watching my children taught me that you can have all of the above. The friendship. The kindness. The fights. The frustration. The backstabbing. The forgiveness. The make-up. And the friendship all over again. It’s a delightful ebb and flow. Give and take.

When something bad happens in life, you really get to see who your friends are. They are usually the ones you least expect. They are also the ones that have always been there. Have always shown up no matter what. Friends know how to lay it down. Forgive. Move on. When something bad happens in life and people show up for you, it really humbles you. It makes you want to be a better friend. It makes you want to show up for someone that you care about when they need you most.

Friendships were always awkward for me because I didn’t want to appear to like someone more than they liked me. I wanted to play it cool. Be a little mysterious. A little aloof. Feel the other person out a little, before I made my affections known. Because when I like someone, I really like them. They can do no wrong, until they do, and then I hate them forever! But not anymore. That’s exhausting. And really self-centered. And lonely.

From now on, whenever I think of someone, wonder how they are doing, feel the need to reach out to them, I will. I’ll just do it. It doesn’t matter if their affections don’t match mine. We don’t have to be best friends. It doesn’t matter if I’m awkward about it. It doesn’t matter if they are mad at me for something. Life is too short. That’s cliche, but it’s true. People showed me how good it feels when someone showed up for me when I needed it most. People that became friends because they thought of me and reached out. They showed up and made a difference to me. And I’m grateful.

Posted in My Stories | Tagged blogging, Doctor, fight, forgive, Friends, friendship, grateful, Humor, like, lonely, sibling rivalry | 11 Comments

Wicker for better living

Posted on January 4, 2017 by deconstructingdoctor

You know what I’ve realized? Life is not like a Pottery Barn Catalog. Life isn’t all neatly tucked away in cute little wicker baskets on top of shelves. It’s not neatly filed in boxes and catalogued with metal tag holders. Life is messy. It’s cluttered. It gets a little dusty. Sometimes life is like stepping on Lego’s in your bare feet because somebody didn’t pick them all up in their designated basket with the little chalkboard sign dangling off of it that says “Lego’s.”

Kids and husbands don’t study the Pottery Barn Catalog for the secrets of the universe to be revealed. Like I have. One of the best parts about getting married was registering for gifts from the Pottery Barn Catalog. After that, it’s pretty much been downhill. Just kidding. It’s been great.

I love the endless dishes in the sink and laundry for days. I love that everyone just lays their stuff wherever they can, cluttering the tables, the floor. Leaving juice boxes and those tiny little straw wrappers all willy-nilly in the living room. That’s not how they do it in the Pottery Barn Catalog!! Smudgy fingerprints on glass, a layer of dust on everything, strange sticky spots on the floor, dog hair on all the blankets. The Pottery Barn would not have such chaos!!

You know what else doesn’t happen in that damn catalog? The dog’s too long nails don’t poke and rip holes in their cute little duvet covers. They don’t make the bed all perfect with too many pillows and then the kids wake up and crawl into the bed and mess it all up. They don’t have mismatched furniture, plates, silverware, and pots/pans. The stuff on the walls looks collected, but neatly, it’s done cleverly, it has taste and style!

Screw you, Pottery Barn! Your style and taste are impeccable. I want to be you, but at what cost? It’s an impossible existence! I’m done trying to fulfill your impractical expectations! You know what else? I hate that you put everything in 3’s. 3 baskets on 3 shelves with 3 eclectic figurines and 3 uniquely placed wall hangings. No more! Everything in my home will be in 4’s from now on! And I will no longer have so many damn pillows on my bed!

But I do love some wicker baskets and decorative storage boxes. I will never give up my desire for neat and tidy storage. Never.

(By the way, what’s up with that name, Pottery Barn, anyway?? They don’t even sell pottery and they wouldn’t be caught dead in a real barn! All the animals and that smell! Who are they kidding? They should be called Wicker Baskets of Lies or something. OMG. What am I saying? I still love you, Pottery Barn)

Posted in My Stories | Tagged blogging, clutter, Doctor, duvet covers, Humor, Life, pottery barn, storage, style, wicker baskets | 6 Comments

Salad Spinner

Posted on January 1, 2017 by deconstructingdoctor

First, let me preface this post by giving full disclosure: cooking is not my strongest suit. I pretty much stink at it. One of my friends from high school and one that I’ve kept in touch with on Facebook recommended Blue Apron for me to try. So I did. And I like it. It’s making me a better cook which is almost unimaginable. I’m that bad.

I’m so bad at it, that prior to my experiences with Blue Apron, my favorite kitchen gadget and thereby cooking gadget was the Salad Spinner. What a minute, you say. That’s not technically a “cooking gadget.” And you would be right. I know that now. Because now, I’m a freaking cook. I wasn’t before.

Truthfully, the Salad Spinner is a really incredible gadget. I do treasure it. Since I wasn’t much of a cook before, I became a damn good salad maker. My salads are awesome. They are mesmerizing. They are unique and imaginative. And that Salad Spinner makes it all possible. If you don’t have a Salad Spinner, let me tell you -you are missing out! Please go out and buy one right now! Go. I’ll wait……

Here’s a link to Good Housekeepings Review on Salad Spinners so that you can make a more informed decision http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/cooking-tools/salad-spinner-reviews/.

Did you get it? OK, now you are ready to make the most incredible salads on God’s green earth. Let’s get started.

Have you ever had a salad that seemed a bit too juicy? You washed the lettuce and the accompanying vegetables and/or fruit, mixed it all together and added the dressing but found upon eating it that a soupy concoction remained at the bottom of the salad bowl. That’s just gross and unappetizing. Now that you have a Salad Spinner, this will never happen again. The problem? You didn’t get all that produce dry enough!

You cut up your lettuce, vegetables, fruit , wash it thoroughly, place it in the basket in the Salad Spinner and SPIN it. The centrifugal force (that’s science) forces the water away from the produce and into the bowl beneath! So smart! Then you just dump out the water and wa-lah! No juicy aftermath!

Please, please, please DO NOT confuse the Salad Spinner with the Salad Shooter. This is a common, but disastrous mistake. The Salad Shooter is just dumb and did not stand the test of time. You don’t need that, you can cut up your lettuce yourself. But drying it, that takes effort, paper towels, and time!! Nobody’s got time for that.

I put everything in the Salad Spinner. Spinach. Broccoli. Strawberries. Cauliflower. Grapes. Anything fresh that needs to be dried after washing. I deem it one of the great inventions of the 1970’s. Only to be rivaled by the Post-It Note and disposable lighter. Oh yeah, and Pong. I almost forgot about Pong…

Posted in Advise Humorous | Tagged blogging, blue apron, Doctor, dressing, fruit, Humor, salad, salad shooter, salad spinner, strawberries, vegetables | 8 Comments

Lost and Found

Posted on December 28, 2016 by deconstructingdoctor

I am obsessed with bottles. Not because I like bottles all that much, it’s because I like to put things in them. I collect do-dads, trinkets, little bits of shiny things, mostly broken, mostly discarded and I put them in bottles. Lots of bottles. Maybe 20. So that’s probably not too crazy.

Like bits of broken glass battered by the ocean, shells of all sizes and shapes, broken pocket watches with the innards scattered about, buttons, beads, metal bits of broken jewelry, rocks and acorns, whatever catches my eye and I deem collectible. Whatever I think still has some use. I like to collect all of these things because who else will? Who else will see the beauty in the old rusty hinge at the Goodwill. No one. Except me.

Over the years, I have made things out of these discarded gems. A necklace. A pendant. I’ve hung things on my walls. I like the way it feels to surround myself with old, battered, useful, worn things. I take comfort in it. These things were once lost in the world. Discarded. And I found them. What beauty they hold!

It feels like redemption. Like the unlikely kid that makes the winning touchdown. Like the battered woman who gets away. Like the old man who sees the ocean for the first time. Like being made new again. Like second chances. Like one last shot to make it right.

Maybe I’m like those old little trinkets. A little battered, a little worn, a little lost. Not always, but sometimes. I’ve been rescued more than a few times, sometimes by my own devices, sometimes by another person, and sometimes by powers I can’t even fully imagine. I like second chances. I like redemption. I like when all seems lost, but then its found again. I like old bits of broken things in bottles scattered about my home, surrounding me. Reminding me that there’s always one more chance.

Posted in My Stories | Tagged battered, blogging, bottles, broken, collect, Doctor, inspiration, Lost and found, redemption, rescued, second chances, stories, trinkets | 14 Comments

Greater Good

Posted on December 24, 2016 by deconstructingdoctor

_dsc0232 Talking or writing about my faith always gives me a little uncomfortable feeling. I can talk to my family, children, and close friends about it, but putting it out into the world to be ridiculed is almost unbearable.

There are many moments that I have had among other Christians that were life changing and many moments that were cringe-worthy. Moments where the expression of a higher love was tainted by a tone of ignorance and judgement. That’s why it is hard to be a Christian. We are expected to be representatives of a greater love, but the representatives are a bunch of idiots. I know it, but I’m still one. I’m still a Christian. And I’m still an idiot.

I don’t get it right. I don’t always participate in the plan. I’m not always a force for a greater good, even though that’s what I’m called to be. All I can do is try. Try. Fail. Try again. Keep my heart open to the plan. Keep my mind focused on a greater good. Let Him work in me, through me. And to be a force in the world for good.

For many of us, Christian or not, there is a sense of a greater force. Something. Out there. Beyond human comprehension, but magnificent and good. For me, that force has a name and being and a story. This works for me. This is real for me. This is true for me.

Many Christians believe that our goal is to get others to be Christian, too. To win souls for Jesus. To get everyone into heaven. This is uncomfortable for me because there was a time that I wasn’t a Christian and if someone tried to “win” me over, I probably would have told them to f*ck off. Trying to win someone over for Jesus sometimes seems like winning brownie points from Jesus. We can’t make anyone believe. I don’t have that power and I don’t want to pretend I do.

Just by virtue of being human with the capacity to love, we are all called to a higher purpose. To express that love. Corny, I know. That ‘s the simplest expression of my faith. That’s the way I am called to “win” souls. I just simply love them. God does the rest.

With the Christian high holy day upon us, I wish everyone a year of great love and great joy. I hope that you find inspiration to bring forth great works for the greater good.

Happy holidays, friends.

Posted in My Stories | Tagged Christian, Christmas, discomfort, God, Good, Good works, greater good, Jesus, Joy, love, plan | 6 Comments

Gender Offender

Posted on December 20, 2016 by deconstructingdoctor

_dsc0187 I went to a conference last week. Alone. No kids. No husband. No friends. Just me. 5 days in a hotel room. 5 days to navigate an alien city all by myself. 5 days to find peace and calm in an otherwise insanely hectic life.

I am no stranger to being alone. I like it. It’s the hoards of people that I find myself interacting with on a daily basis that seem to cause me discomfort. I just get really drained. My kids. My husband. The patients. The powers that be. Everything. Drains me. I actually looked forward to this little retreat.

What surprised me and what I had never felt before was a strange sense of vulnerability and fear.

Let me explain.

I pride myself on being able to maneuver in any neighborhood, with any people, at any time of day. I just have no fear of people. Except this time. Inside, I felt a little scared. What I hadn’t realized until I found myself completely alone, was the toll that the last several months have taken on me. The onslaught of media coverage of the recent election. The man attacking the woman. The man stalking her during debates. The “locker room” language about “grabbing pu$$y.” The inability of the man to be decent so that my children could actually watch TV without hearing bleeped out curse words. Hitting below the belt and then taking a little grab. The man’s supporters condoning ungodly behavior and then saying it was God’s plan. It was all too much.

I have no fear, but I’m not stupid. I carry mace. I lock my doors. I have my key ready so I’m not fiddling in my purse. I am aware and observant at all times.

After the election, with so many people seeing no problem with being an asshole, speaking like an asshole (I know I curse, too, I’m an asshole, too), treating others like they are less than. I felt vulnerable. The normal expectation of being treated decently because I treat others decently just doesn’t exist. Anything goes. You can say and do whatever you want to whomever you want. People who aren’t very nice have been empowered.

The world seems like a scarier place for it.

Posted in My Stories | Tagged alone, blogging, conference, discomfort, Doctor, Doctor story, empowered, fear, locker room talk, story, stranger, Truth | 14 Comments

Push Pull

Posted on December 12, 2016 by deconstructingdoctor

_dsc0146 There is this phenomenon that I would like to discuss. Does this happen to any of you? Of course it does. If you share a bed with another human being, this has happened. It is happening now all over the world.

What is it you ask?

It’s the battle over the covers.

Stay with me for a moment folks. I have a theory about the battle of the covers.

I’m married to a wonderful man for almost 10 years. Our bed is queen sized. Right now, we have a flannel fitted sheet with one of those velour blankets on top that is all soft and snuggly and a quilt on top of that. Every morning upon awaking, ALL of the covers are piled over onto MY side of the bed. My husband has the smallest amount covering him. This makes absolutely no sense to me. I’m always hot and he’s always cold. Why are the covers migrating over to my side, compiling, multiplying, and smothering me to death in the night?

There is some kind of otherworldly psychological warfare going on.

I declare that my husband is pushing the covers onto my side of the bed. That’s right. I am not pulling them, they are being pushed! All night long I find myself pushing the covers back over to his side. I stay still. I swear. I don’t move! How could the covers move so much if I don’t? I worry that he is cold so I push the covers back over, but somehow every morning they end up in the same place. Most on me. Some on the floor on my side and the smallest amount covering my husband.

Why would he push the covers over onto me? I don’t know. I told you it’s some kind of psychological warfare. He wants me to think I’m pulling the covers onto myself even though I’m always too hot.

He’s trying to make me think I’m crazy.

Of course he denies it. He says it’s me. That I pull the covers. This can’t be. I won’t accept that answer. No one would ever purposely do something counter-productive to themselves -like hoarding the covers even though it makes them too hot. Like a self-inflicted punishment of sorts. Conversely, no one would ever take from someone they love just to spite them -like making my husband too cold for no other reason than to cause discomfort. I’m right about this. I just know it. Right? Right…..

Posted in My Stories | Tagged blog, blogger, blogging, Doctor, Humor, Marriage, post, stories, Truth, writing | 8 Comments

Thy Rod and Thy Staff

Posted on December 6, 2016 by deconstructingdoctor

fullsizeoutput_19ef Sometimes, before I walk into a room with certain patients, I take a deep cleansing breath and whisper, Lord, give me strength. I just know what’s waiting for me on the other side. History repeats itself over and over. I know I will leave feeling a bit more depleted than I went in. Some people just take. Maybe they can’t help it. But it’s my job, for goodness sakes, to listen to and respond to my patients. To help them.

Sometimes, I really earn my $15 copay.

Before I walked into her room, I’ll admit, I said my little prayer.

How are you?

I was expecting an onslaught of problems. It wasn’t always like that with her, but lately it had been. There had been some complications after a procedure. Things hadn’t turned out as expected and she was struggling.

I’m great!

I gave her a funny look. Turned around, opened the door, stuck my head out into the hall, saying to no one in particular, “Am I in the right room? ” She laughed and laughed. She WAS doing better. Things HAD turned around. And I was grateful.

How are you doing with the loss of your mom?

That took me a little by surprise, but I answered her. Not good. The holidays are harder than I thought. I miss her. This was her favorite time of year. I told her that our office was going through struggles, we were going to be changing computer systems and everyone was stressed to the max.

She grabbed my hand, embraced me. Like my mom would.

And she started praying. For me. For my children. For my staff. I could feel the tears burning just behind my eyes. She wasn’t taking from me. She was giving back. At first, I felt a tension in the embrace. I wasn’t supposed to be the one in need. Her words created a lifeline, speaking on the behalf of my staff and myself to our maker, and I could feel myself relax and allow the magic to happen. Accept the gift. Return the embrace.

Thank you. That helped me more than you know.

“You’ve helped me more than you know,” she said.

Posted in Healthcare Today, Medical Musings, My Stories | Tagged blogging, Death, Doctor, Doctor patient relationship, Grief, loss, prayer, staff, stories | 4 Comments

Too Much

Posted on December 2, 2016 by deconstructingdoctor

_dsc0144 My mom died on July 7th 2016. My birthday was July 26th and my wedding anniversary was July 28th. On my mom’s desk in her room, sat two cards, one addressed to me and one addressed to me and my husband. She had already bought cards for my birthday and our anniversary. She already wrote notes inside, sealed the envelopes, and had them waiting to give to us almost a month later.

Later, when I cleaned out her room, I found Christmas gifts for me and my children hidden under her bed. For me, a necklace made of 3 sunflowers, my favorite flower, strung together by a silver chain. For my children, their favorite toys, My Little Pony and Minecraft. They don’t know it yet, but come Christmas day, under our tree will be the last gifts from their grandmother. I’m not sure how that will be received. Will it be a sad moment? Will there be tears? Will they cherish these little trinkets like I cherish that sunflower necklace and those cards? Her words echoing to me from beyond the grave.

Hope you have a great birthday! Love you with all of my heart, Mom

Hope your day is as wonderful as you both are! Love ya lots, Mom

It was just like my mom to have started her Christmas shopping by July. She had other little gifts, too, likely for her nail and hair ladies or her favorite waitress at the local coffee shop. She also had two bins in my garage filled with little toys to put in those shoeboxes for Operation Christmas Child. She’d make half a dozen or more of those boxes each year.

She had a way of listening to us throughout the year, listening for our hearts’ desires and then going back and getting it for us later. I had to limit her to 4 presents per child per year, otherwise Christmas would have been out of control. Too much stuff!

It sounds sweet, but I’m going to be honest, this is the kind of thing that always drove me crazy about my mom. What an ungrateful daughter I am!

It was always too much. She was too good. She was too generous. She was too thoughtful. I didn’t appreciate it like I should have. I was embarrassed by it. She loved us so much. Too much. More than herself. She was an incredible person. She gave so much of herself, leaving so little for herself. For the joy that giving gave her, there was also a great sadness. A void. A let down. A loss. Our loss.

Posted in My Stories | Tagged blog, blogging, Christmas, Death, Doctor, family, gifts, giving, loss, Mom, mother, writing | 22 Comments

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